


A Better Family

by aniceghost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Enjolras, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 02:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniceghost/pseuds/aniceghost
Summary: Enjolras, estranged from his transphobic family, is spending Christmas Eve alone. That is, until a certain cynic shows up unexpectedly on his doorstep.Just some Enjoltaire Christmas Fluff





	A Better Family

It was a cold Christmas Eve, and Enjolras was alone. The rest of the Amis were gone off to their respective families for holiday celebrations. Enjolras, on the other hand, was not welcome at his own family’s Christmas gathering. They had made that pretty clear when he had begun transitioning. Telling them he was trans was one thing, but actually starting testosterone? Or God forbid getting surgery? It was too much for them.  
Normally he felt that he had made his peace with it. He may not have his biological family anymore, but he had an incredible found family, and that was all he could ask for. His friends were his family, and he loved them dearly. He never doubted that they loved him, too.  
But today was different. Today he was alone, because his friends all had other families to return to and he did not. They had been apologetic, offering quite sincerely to stay and celebrate with him. Courfeyrac could hardly be convinced to leave without Enjolras, insisting that Enjolras was welcome to join him with his own family. But he had refused all their efforts. He didn’t want to intrude. And, if he was honest, he wanted to brood in his loneliness. Christmas was the best time for basking in the pain of abandonment, and no one was there to judge him for it.  
And so he was alone in his apartment, sipping hot chocolate and watching some Christmas special on TV. Tired and sad as he was, he was completely unprepared for any visitors. When the doorbell rang, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Who could that possibly be? All of his friends were gone. With a sigh he dragged himself off the sofa and to the door, where he looked through the peephole and saw… Grantaire? Grantaire, of all people, on Christmas Eve. Enjolras’s public opponent and private daydream, his secret schoolgirl crush, in the flesh. On his doorstep.  
Enjolras took a step back from the door and drew in a deep breath to compose himself. He was certain that he was not ready for whatever this was. But it didn’t seem like the universe was giving him much of a choice.  
He opened the door.  
“Grantaire,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “Can I help you?”  
“No. Yes. I mean--” Grantaire stopped himself and took a deep breath. “I’m actually here to, well. Courfeyrac mentioned that you weren’t going to be with family and since I wasn’t either he kind of hinted that maybe I should, I don’t know. Drop by for some company? I’m sorry, this was a stupid idea. I’m probably the last person you want to see on Christmas Eve and--”  
“Grantaire.” Enjolras cut him off firmly. “I’m glad you’re here.” There was a familiar warmth blooming in his stomach, the kind he always felt when he was close to Grantaire or when Grantaire offered him that rare, secret smile. Could this be real? Grantaire showing up at his apartment on Christmas Eve just to--what? Spend time with him? He barely managed to suppress the stupid grin that threatened to take over his face. Instead he stepped back and said, as calmly as he could manage, “Well, um. Come in, I guess.”  
_Come in, I guess. Nice one, Enjolras._  
Grantaire gave him an awkward smile and stepped over the threshold.”I brought cookies.” He held up a small tin that Enjolras hadn’t noticed before; he had been too busy looking at Grantaire’s wind-swept hair and his nose that was red from the cold.  
The grin was starting to slip out now. “Thank you.”  
“Yeah. No problem.” Grantaire did a little embarrassed shuffle with his feet, which Enjolras found unreasonably adorable. He closed the door behind him. Then something occurred to him.  
“Wait, what about you? Shouldn’t you be with your family? I don’t want to keep you--”  
“No, I-- It’s not really like that with my family.”  
“Like what?” Enjolras asked, painfully aware that he was being too nosy.  
“We don’t really talk.”  
“Oh. Okay.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.  
He led the other man into the living room and sat down. Grantaire put the box of cookies on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, hands carefully folded on his lap, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch anything.  
The question came out of nowhere. “What about your family, Enjolras?”  
“Les Amis are my family.”  
“You know what I mean.”  
Enjolras sighed. “Yeah. I know. I just-- I don’t really talk about my _other_ family much.”  
“You don’t have to--”  
“It’s okay,” Enjolras interrupted him. “I don’t mind. They’re, um. They’re not really okay with the whole trans thing. When I started transitioning they made it pretty clear that I wasn’t welcome anymore.”  
Grantaire was quiet for a moment. Then, “I’m sorry.”  
Enjolras gave him a sad smile. “Don’t be. I have a better family now. And so do you.”  
Grantaire didn’t seem to know how to respond, so they simply sat for a moment looking at each other. Grantaire’s eyes were the soft green and brown of moss and soil. Enjolras cleared his throat. “So, what kind of cookies?” He nodded at the container on the table.  
_Smooth, Enjolras._  
“Oh.” Grantaire seemed to snap back into himself. “Oatmeal raisin. A lot of people don’t like them but I know they’re your favorite, so.”  
_He knows they’re my favorite._ Enjolras wanted to ask how he knew, but Grantaire looked a little embarrassed about it, so he decided not to question it. Instead, he leaned forward to open the tin and pulled out two cookies, handing one to Grantaire. “Cheers.”  
Grantaire smiled that smile that made Enjolras’s heart flutter. “Cheers.”  
Enjolras took a bite of what was in fact the best oatmeal raisin cookie he’d ever had. He looked up at Grantaire, impressed. “Where did you learn to make these?”  
“You like them?” At Enjolras’s enthusiastic nod, he grinned. “I can’t take credit, I’m afraid. They’re Jehan’s original recipe.”  
Of course, Jehan. Bless them.  
After eating their cookies they lapsed into silence again. Enjolras searched for something to say, anything, that would make this beautiful, interesting man want to stay a little longer, or forever.  
“Do you want to watch a movie?” It was a start, at least.  
“Sure. What are we watching?”  
“I don’t know. What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”  
Grantaire didn’t even pause to think about it. “The Polar Express. Hands down.”  
“Really? I always thought the animation was kind of creepy.”  
“Yeah, but have you really paid attention the story? I promise it makes up for the weird uncanney valley shit.”  
Enjolras smiled. “Well, if you _promise_.”  
“Anyway, if you get creeped you can always snuggle up with me.” Grantaire sent him a roguish wink, and Enjolras’s stomach did a flip. He knew Grantaire was joking-- wasn’t he?-- but still. The image wouldn’t leave his brain. When Grantaire cleared his throat he realized he had been silent for too long.  
“Kidding, Apollo.”  
“I thought I told you not to call me that,” he responded automatically, but the words lacked their usual bite. They were quiet and maybe a little breathy. He realized suddenly how close together they were sitting. Grantaire was looking at him a little curiously, with his head tilted slightly to one side in the cutest way. Before the moment could stretch any longer, Enjolras abruptly turned away and reached for the remote. He quickly found the movie and pressed play, relieved as the opening music filled the silence that had grown between them.  
It was maybe twenty minutes later when Enjolras rearranged himself on the sofa and, in doing so, inadvertently brushed his leg against Grantaire’s. Beneath the sounds of the movie, a small gasp. Did Grantaire feel it too, this electricity flowing between them, getting stronger every minute that they sat on the couch within arm’s reach of one another? He should move his leg, should scoot a little further toward his end of the couch to preserve the polite distance between them.  
He could not bring himself to move away. In fact, he wanted to lean a little closer, so that his weight was resting against Grantaire’s side. Somehow, he didn’t think Grantaire would mind.  
Intensely aware of the charged presence beside him, Enjolras slowly allowed himself to relax into the couch and into Grantaire. Grantaire, who was warm and soft and who stiffened just a little at the feeling of Enjolras’s body against his before relaxing again with a quiet sigh. Grantaire who, seconds later, turned away from the screen to look at Enjolras.  
“You’re very cold.”  
“Sorry. I’m always cold.” Enjolras started to sit up, but Grantaire’s arm came up around his shoulders to stop him.  
“No, it’s okay. Stay.”  
Enjolras carefully allowed his weight to rest against him again. “Well, for the record,” he replied, “You’re super warm. Like space heater warm.”  
"Is that a good thing?”  
“Yeah, I kind of like it.”  
“I like you.” The words seemed to leave Grantaire’s mouth of their own accord, and he looked as startled as Enjolras when he realized what he’d said.  
This time Enjolras did sit up, turning to look at Grantaire more directly. “What did you say?”  
Those forest eyes turned downward to linger on the pattern of the sofa underneath them. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”  
Enjolras swallowed. “Please don’t apologize. I, actually, um. I mean, I don’t know how you meant it, but. I like you, too. Like, really like you.  
To his alarm, Grantaire looked wounded. “Don’t tease me, Apollo.”  
Enjolras shook his head and stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how to make this man believe that he was wanted. “Can I touch you?”  
“Can you-- yeah.” Grantaire’s voice was a little hoarse.  
Enjolras gently placed a hand on the side of Grantaire’s face and turned it so that they had nowhere to look but at one another. Leaving his hand there, he leaned forward a little and said, with as much sincerity as he could muster, “I wouldn’t tease you. Not about this. I really like you, Grantaire.”  
Grantaire’s eyes searched his for a moment, disbelieving and hopeful and a little desperate. Finally, finally, he brought his hand up to cover Enjolras’s. “You mean it, don’t you? You actually mean it.”  
Enjolras didn’t take his eyes off Grantaire’s. “Have you ever known me to say things I don’t mean?”  
Grantaire shook his head in wonder, and before Enjolras could process what was happening the other man was leaning forward, whispering _is this okay_ and Enjolras was saying _yes_ and then Grantaire’s lips were on his and _oh._ This was what it was, the feeling in his chest when he heard a beautiful song, when he read a poem that struck him deeply, when he saw something good that he had fought for come to fruition in the world. It was joy and longing and heartache all tied up together. When he pulled away they were both breathless.  
Enjolras leaned his forehead against Grantaire’s. “You’re incredible, R. I hope you know.”  
Grantaire let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Apollo. _Enjolras_.”  
Enjolras leaned back and let his hands fall to Grantaire’s where they rested in his lap. “I don’t suppose we could do that ag--” Before he could finish Grantaire’s mouth was on his again, and Grantaire’s warm body was pressing him back against the couch cushions and they were kissing and smiling, the movie forgotten in the background.  
And as Christmas Eve became Christmas Day they were together still, intertwined and complete, with all the glorious hope of the new year spread out before them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays <3


End file.
